


Countdown

by novera_nope



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 06:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13161132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novera_nope/pseuds/novera_nope
Summary: Four New Year's Eves in the life of Jaime Lannister. Jaime/Cersei to Jaime/Brienne.





	Countdown

272 AC

The great hall of Casterly Rock was looking magnificent, as it always did that time of the year. Christmas decorations were taking up just about every free inch there'd previously been, and in the center of the room a large Christmas tree was standing proud and tall in all its ornate glory, looking a lot like its owner. The golden peak on the top was almost touching the ceiling. 

Underneath the tree, a little boy in red pajamas was playing with the set of little wooden figurines he'd received as a Christmas gift from his father. He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings, engrossed as he was in the current threat his little king Aerys had to defend the realm against. He didn't even notice when people around him started counting excitedly. 

_10! 9! 8! 7!_

He almost jumped when his twin sister plopped down next to him, purposefully knocking down his carefully arranged soldiers in the process. “Cersei!” he yelled, irritated. 

_6! 5! 4!_

She was beaming at him in excitement and he relented. He couldn't be angry with her – expecially when she was looking at him like _that_. “What?” he mumbled. 

_3! 2! 1!_

“Happy New Year, Jaime!” Cersei exclaimed, smiling widely, before pressing her lips to his. 

His brows shot up, but he found himself incapable of saying anything with her lips glued to his. From the corner of his eyes, he spotted their father, though. Tywin was looking amused, his hand on the swollen belly of their mother, and then he smiled at the sight of his golden twins. 

***

277 AC

11-year-old Jaime found his sister out on one of the many balconies the castle counted, looking down over the city of Lannisport. It was a cold night, and she was only wearing a thin scarf over her clothes, so he pulled her around and against him. She turned into the embrace instantly. 

“It's not the same, is it? Since mom –" His voice trailed away. 

He felt Cersei shake her head against his shoulder. From inside, they suddenly heard the obligatory countdown coming from the guests. “Well, _some_ things never change, do they?” he laughed, trying to cheer her up. 

Cersei pulled herself from the embrace and he was relieved to see she wasn't crying. “That's true,” she said, a small smile playing around her lips. “I mean, I still get to kiss you, right?”

“Of course,” he answered, suddenly dead serious. “Always.”

“We ought to do it differently this time, though,” she stated. 

Jaime frowned. “Differently? How?”

When Cersei looked up at him, there was a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Our tongues are supposed to touch, Jaime. That's how grown-ups kiss.”

“Tongues?” He mentally tried to picture it. It seemed rather... _gross_. “Who says?”

“One of the stable boys,” she answered after without hesitation. 

The implication was clear and all of a sudden Jaime saw red. “You let one of the _stable boys_ –" He couldn't even finish the sentence, feeling a surge of possessiveness course throughout his body. “You can't – you're _mine_ , Cersei,” he hissed. 

As he mashed his lips against hers, he briefly thought he could feel her smile, but the thought left him as she pried his lips open and their tongues touched for the first time. 

It wasn't gross. It wasn't gross, at all. It was heaven. 

Afterwards, he couldn't remember how long they'd been standing there, exploring each other, but at a certain point a distinct voice called out from inside the castle. “Jaime? Cersei? Are you there?”

Jaime reluctantly broke the kiss, feeling completely overwhelmed. “It's Tyrion, sis. We should –"

“Of course it's Tyrion,” Cersei interrupted him. Her voice could have cut glass. She abruptly pulled away from Jaime. “He always manages to ruin _everything_.”

***

298 AC

The wound was getting worse, Jaime knew that. His stump was hurting more with every passing hour and the incessant thump of his own pulse in his ears was slowly driving him insane. 

As it was, he felt in dire need of some distraction, even if it had to come from the pathetic excuse for a woman they'd tied him up with. She'd proven to be a great source of amusement during the last few weeks, often raising to his baits without much effort on his part, but tonight she was disappointingly silent. 

Jaime sighed. “Wench,” he whispered, trying to get her attention without alerting the Mummers. 

“What is it?” she snapped. He couldn't see her face, but she sounded irritated at the disruption. _Good_. “Not that you're that good a discussion partner, but you _do_ have to realize there's not much else I can do right now but talk to you. And you're awfully silent tonight.” 

Her shoulders slumped. “It's nothing, just – did you realize it's New Year's Eve?”

He hadn't. “So?” He couldn't resist the urge to needle her. “There was some party you wanted to crash? I bet men would've been lining up to kiss you at midnight. Are you sad you're missing out on that?”

“I'm not, actually,” she shot back. “Not when I'm on the back of a horse, bound to a delirious man smelling like rotting flesh. It's how I always imagined to spend New Year's Eve.”

With a pang, Jaime realized she was right about one thing. There _was_ an awful smell coming from his stump. He felt sweat dripping from his forehead, so she might be right about being delirious, too. An excruciating jab of pain suddenly shot through his arm and he hissed. 

The wench didn't miss it. “Is there... something I can do?”

“Just keep on talking,” Jaime said through gritted teeth. “It'll pass.”

“When I was a child, New Year's Eve was – magical,” she offered. “My father invited all those guests and I had so much fun with the other children there. Appearance, it seems, only becomes important when you're older.” Jaime could feel her swallow. “But then my brother died, and my father – he just – gave up.”

_Well, look at that. It seemed like they had something in common, after all._

“After my mother died, my father just kept hosting those parties, because it was what was expected of him,” he croaked. “But there was no more joy, no more –" Why was he telling her this? _He must be delirious, indeed._ Another jolt of pain shot through him and he let his head fall against the wench's broad back, waiting for unconsciousness to take him. 

“Harrenhall can't be far from here,” he faintly heard her say. “Surely, Lord Bolton will make sure your arm's tended to.”

He wasn't so sure about that, but he appreciated the thought nevertheless. “Happy New Year, wench,” he uttered, not without difficulty, closing his eyes. 

“Happy New Year, Kingslayer,” he thought he heard her say in a gentle voice, before the world around him ceized to exist. 

***

303 AC

“Brienne?” Jaime's eyes scanned the Castle's courtyard. “Brienne! Are you here?” he repeated, seeing his breath in the ice cold Northern air. No answer came, but he eventually spotted her, sitting on one of the wooden benches close to the guesthouse. 

He swiftly walked towards the bench and sat down beside her. “What on earth are you doing out here? It's fucking _freezing_.”

“It's not that bad, actually,” Brienne retorted. “You're just not used to it.” She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes and Jaime carefully touched her thigh with his good hand. As she made no attempt at hitting him, he dared to let it linger there. “Still getting all soft on New Year's Eve, I see.” 

Brienne stared at his hand for a moment, before sighing. “It's just – I know it's stupid, but I haven't been to Tarth for so long, and I – I miss it, Ser Jaime.”

“Jaime,” he corrected her. “You know, _I'_ ve seen Tarth not that long ago.”

Her brows shot up in surprise. “You did?”

He nodded. “When I was on my way to Dorne. And it was as beautiful as you told me, Brienne. The water was so blue, indeed, and all could think about were your eyes.”

Brienne was silent for a moment, her blush clearly visible in the snow-filled coartyard. “Save me the crap, Jaime. What are you doing here?”

"Here?” Jaime conjured up his most pleasant smile. “Well, it was getting rather hot in the great hall, so I thought I might as well go outside and get some nice, freezing air and –"

“Stop it!” Brienne yelled, jumping up. _Gods, but she looked magnificent when she was angry._ “Why are you here, Jaime?”

He slowly rose and took her all but frozen hands in his, insisting when she tried to pull them away. “I'm in Winterfell because I made a promise to Daenerys Targaryen. I'm here to help in the upcoming battle against those – things.” He looked at her solemnly. “But in the end, I would've come to whatever place you are, Brienne.”

She stopped trying to disentangle their hands, looking up at him with wide eyes. Inside, the countdown to the new year had, once again, begun. 

“I've loved you for a long time, Brienne. It just took me a while to realize it.” He cocked his head, deciding to take a gamble. “Longer than it took you, I'm guessing.”

As her mouth opened and then closed again, he knew he was right and he moved closer to her. 

_Happy New Year!_ They could clearly hear the shouting from within the hall. 

“May I kiss you, Brienne?” Jaime whispered, his lips only an inch away from hers. 

She nodded, blushing fiercely. And so he did. 

***

EPILOGUE

He made love to her that night, worshipping her body with his fingers, his lips, his tongue and, finally, his cock. They were clumsy at best, him being one-handed and her being completely inexperienced, and yet, when he laid his head down on her warm chest afterwards, her hands carding through his hair, he knew it had been the best New Year's Eve he'd ever experienced. 

The threat from the North was hanging over the new year heavily, but whatever might be coming their way, Jaime knew that with his wench, he finally had the right woman by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year to you all! Kudos and comments are like New Year's wishes! :D


End file.
